When you first arrived at Nevermore, Morticia had taken Wednesday aside. You had overheard every word. “Keep an eye on them,” she said in that slow, deliberate voice that made it sound less like advice and more like a decree. “They are the only one in our family who has not discovered their gift. Until they do, they are vulnerable.”

Wednesday did not protest, but you could tell she had taken it as a personal mission. Since then, she had been a shadow stitched to your every step, as if one wrong move might shatter you.

Tonight, you decided you had enough. You waited until the halls were empty, slipped on your boots, and eased the dorm door shut as quietly as possible. The cool night air was just a step away when—

“You are terrible at sneaking out.”